Lilting Notes
by wonderwall05
Summary: It was hard to find the way through the lilting notes. Hard to find the truth behind the noise. Hard to look at the war and be proud. REPOSTED STORY. Revamped take a look.
1. There is Nothing

**"There's nothing you can do, Harry...nothing...He's gone."** Remus whispered his hand dead weight upon Harry's shoulder and he was sinking.

"I could not exist." Harry replied because no matter how many times people tried to cover up the truth, it was his fault. Hermione could say that his parents in any situation would have died for him, that it was fate and it was cruel and unfair. Ron could say that it was all Snape's fault and when it came time for the final battle he would kill him for all that he had caused. He knew what they didn't that they wrought their own futures that fate didn't exist and that you couldn't count on anyone but yourself to give it to you straight. No one could ever know him like they wanted to, and they kept on trying and he didn't understand why. What was good enough about him to want to know? He brought destruction with him; he got the people he loved killed. He only ever caused grief.

Grief was tied to anger it was tied so tight that he couldn't even separate the two anymore. Because now as he stroked the hair out of Sirius' dead eyes watching as strands came unstuck from their place in the liquid that would soon dry, he wanted to kill Bellatrix Lestrange. He wanted to torture her and have her beg for death because Sirius deserved to be alive, after all he had been through this was such a- such a pathetic way to die. So Harry stood anger tied to grief flowing through his veins.

"Harry no!" He heard Remus shout but he didn't understand, he had been grown up when Lily and James died he had time to cope to heal. Harry had no time. Seconds were precious and he couldn't waste them with thought. He started running and he flew literally flew through the Department of Mysteries. He was out of the circular room before it could begin to spin and he was racing to the elevators, racing time. He screamed at their human pace when he could fly and he was wasting golden moments. When the doors opened onto the entrance hall and he saw Bellatrix running, he was possessed.

He tried to kill her. He wanted to kill her. He might have hidden this fact from everyone but later in the dark he knew the only reason he didn't was that he was too weak.

He was too weak to kill Voldemort that first time, to kill Pettigrew when he had the chance, too weak to save himself by loving Ginny, too weak to understand this trap that got his godfather killed. He knew now that he would never be able to defeat Voldemort, but he was going to die trying.

A/N: The bold part at the beginning is a quote from the Harry Potter books.


	2. Might is Right

**"Greatness inspires envy, envy engenders spite, spite spawns lies. You must know this, Dumbledore."** His words were meant to seduce meant to convince. But, Albus Dumbledore was set in his ways, and even though he didn't like to admit it, he wasn't open to any others.

He had his beliefs: love, loyalty, kindness, and knowledge. He didn't quite care for much more in life.

Yes he understood the weakness of humans and their emotions but he knew that there were fundamentals on which a person should be built. It just didn't happen too often these days. He watched these children he loved like his own and worked to keep them safe and teach them all of those important things that would keep them from turning.

He had built a home where all could come and be accepted, and learn. Learn all those things that he knew they needed. He pushed away prejudices of teachers, students, parents and chose those of all backgrounds. Everyone was deserving. And those that were the most hated, the most feared? He worked even harder for them to give them what people would try to take from them. Dumbledore worked to make the world see that there was good in everyone. It just so happened that he had been wrong all along. Some people were just bad, and there was this littler thing called human nature that shaped people without any impact from the outside. No matter how anyone tried it would still come to nothing.

There was such a thing as fate.

"I worked so hard for you Tom. I tried to teach you so many things. But, you weren't ever willing to listen." He said feeling suddenly tired, knowing that he failed terribly this time.

"Neither were you," Dumbledore's head shot up as he looked at Tom in confusion. "It goes both ways. You never listened to me therefore I did not listen to you." Tom grinned suddenly his face stretching over bones looking as it was about to break. "You didn't even realize did you? I wonder how many people have gone 'wrong' because of you." His grin became more malicious.

"_Crucio._" His voice a whisper and Dumbledore didn't even try to block it, give him this small victory. As he knelt his old body protesting Tom came to him and whispered in his ear, "Is this the pain you felt when I killed your brother?" That was a wound too deep to be prodded and despite his complaining bones he was on his feet wand pointed in the middle of Tom's head. Pointed at that mind that rivaled his; was so similar yet completely different.

Where were the morals? Where was the part that created this hate? That is what he wanted to kill.

"I am sorry Tom." He whispered and he knew he had to kill him now before he caused more hurt.

"I am not Tom. I am Lord Voldemort."

He whispered this his eyes burning with inhuman fervor. Dumbledore wanted to be able to believe he was right, killing this thing that wasn't even a person anymore, this thing that was certainly not Tom Riddle the orphan who was alone and needed someone to be there for him. Maybe he had never been any of that before. Albus had a way of trying to see the best of people. He lowered his wand trying to justify this murder.

He couldn't.

"You will always be Tom Marvolo Riddle and rearranging letters won't change who created you, it will never change your past." Dumbledore said using steel in his voice to make this boy- that is what he was a _boy_- understand. Trying beyond everything to stop what could come. Things he couldn't even begin to picture. Because evil knew no bounds and he could not let Tom be consumed by it.

"Only might is right and history is written by those who prevail." His eyes were hard and his voice sour. "You will be dead and then no one will be able to attest to my heritage." He turned to look at the horizon. "No one," His voice was a whisper and a maniacal smile glimmered across his face. "But for now I will let you live because killing you now will not be painful enough." His eyes hardened diamonds in eye sockets. "I will make you suffer as I have suffered." Dumbledore sighed and apparated away knowing that what would come would be terrible, worse than any war before. He would know that he could have prevented it, if it had not been for the love that kept him from killing his protégé, the one he had tried to train to follow in his stead.

A/N: The bold part at the beginning is a quote from the Harry Potter books.


	3. Together We Can Fly

**"No, it was honest," said Harry** his eyes cold emeralds filled with hate. **"One of the only honest things you've said to me. You don't care whether I live or die, but you do care that I help you convince everyone you're winning the war against Voldemort."** Rufus Scrimgeour remembered how he had looked at Harry Potter and tried to not feel defeat; he tried not to feel lost.

Rufus wanted to speak then but he kept his mouth in a thin line. He wanted to tell this boy that he cared about him more than he should. It was unhealthy how much he wanted this boy to survive and he knew that only the ministry could offer him the safety he needed.

As he sat slumped in the soft leather chair emblazoned with the Ministry's insignia he knew that no offer would be enough for Harry Potter. He had his ideals and the pain of the past years was not going to fade.

Yet no matter how much he loved this boy he had to stop and think of the rest of the world.

The rest of the world because yes the weight of it was on his shoulders, he remembered the old myth of Atlas whose punishment was to stand with the heavens on his shoulders for eternity. One day Heracles came along and took that burden for a while and Atlas didn't want to return. He loved the feeling of weightlessness he thought he could fly, maybe he was finally forgiven. But once again he came to shoulder that weight and still stands with that unbearable mass.

Rufus wanted to know that feeling he wanted to hand it to Harry for a while at least, knew that he would be able to stand the weight. They were kindred spirits. It was selfish and cruel but he wanted it taken from him, and he worked to convince the boy thinking:

Maybe we can shoulder it _together_.

He wasn't a hero yet but Rufus knew he could make him one. Give him all the glory he truly deserved. _Keep safe._ It was a hard world and Harry wasn't prepared. He let his eyes drift to the towers of Hogwarts, none of them were safe. But the least they could do was try. If Dumbledore who, he admitted grudgingly, was the most powerful wizard in the world could not protect the castle against the Death Eaters, then what little hope he had was lost. The passing of that man did not effect him deeply he had learned to deal with loss. But if he looked a little closer he might even say he missed what Dumbledore had managed to give everyone in some small way-

Sanctuary.

He wasn't afraid of Voldemort; no he had faced him once and knew he would face him again. What he was afraid for was Harry, was the world. And Merlin knows that there was nothing he could do. There were ways to pause for a bit the momentum of what was coming. It was just over the horizon and he could feel it in his bones. He rubbed absentmindedly at his arm where his scar, his scar so like Harry's caused by a curse from the same man pulsed dully.

It almost seemed to speak sometimes.

_It's not long now. It's close, closer than you think._

That is what he is afraid of.

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**"He will only be gone from the school when none are loyal to him." **Harry had said his voice a whisper filled with love and grief and all those things that tore at her heart. She wanted to believe that things would end right side up, needed to really. She just couldn't imagine a world without Harry in it. Didn't _want_ to imagine a world where she lived and he didn't.

Maybe it would have been better if she had never fallen in love with him.

Picturing what a life would be like with him was beautiful and filled with laughter and light, warm fires on winter nights, and slow deep kisses. There would be little red headed babies, little boys dressed in blue and little girls in baby pink dresses and matching bows. She had dreamed of a house filled to the brim like the Burrow, could not imagine a place that wasn't like that.

The Burrow would always be her home.

She let her eyes take in Hogwarts and knew that this place could never be a home again. Dumbledore was gone. Her loyalty to him would never fade, and she would remember the clear blue eyes and the half moon spectacles, glittering with magic but none of that would make him live again. He was only a memory now.

For all that he was gone, and all that he had taken with him (his face, his gentle voice how fast it all was fading) she knew she would never forget his heart of scarlet and gold.

But as the war loomed as real as it had ever been, more real even then when Tom had captured her, all the good was lost.

_His icy pale fingers stroked away the strands of hair stuck to her sweaty face. "It is close dear so close, I can it feel it." _

Those memories choked out all the light in the world. She knew how ruthless he could really be. She had lived his memories had been inside his mind, and she could still hear him laugh as she sobbed out loud and retched trying to force those things out of her mind.

She knew the joy he felt at every one of her screams.

"_You'll never be rid of me Ginny."_

He had taken something from her then and she knew that one day she would steal it back, because it was supposed to be hers. He shouldn't' have been able to remove part of her soul. She was afraid to tell anyone, didn't need anyone to tell her what she had already realized. She knew it was gone could feel it like she had lost a hand. Sometimes it was hard to breath and move, to even keep on living.

"_Your's is mine and mine is your's."_

A/N: The bold parts are quotes from the Harry Potter books. Hope you like this; I'm having trouble drawing these chapters out so I might combine more than one to make them longer. Review please!

The amazing teller of tales,

Wonderwall


	4. See my scars and know I had my wounds

See my scars and know that I had my wounds

**"Accio Brain!" **Two words yet so much damage to his soul. Sometimes he would cry as he looked at the scars wrapping around his body, the raised lines that looked like burns. No magic could heal them; no healer in St. Mungos could make them disappear. His skin appeared to have been tortured though he couldn't remember any pain.

He sometimes joked that maybe his scar would be like Harry's and he would be able to see into people's minds.

No one found that practically amusing. Well neither did he but he didn't want them to know the anxiety he felt. Harry's would always give an awkward chuckle rubbing his head nervously, and Ron worried that he understood more than he realized.

When he first woke up in the hospital wing he had looked down at his arms as the memories came back and thought 'how will anything ever be the same?' Because scars might just be skin deep but they changed a hell of a lot of things. He had gone to sleep later that night and darkness swirled through him sinking hooks into his scars which still felt no pain. The memories came back then. At first he had thought he had passed out when the brains attacked him, now he wished that was true. He was experiencing memories; they were bursting from his scars.

_His eyes followed the line of blood on the ground to the woman. He felt his face curve up into a smile and his hand hefted an object. He glanced down to see something like a Beater's bat but covered in spikes. He began to walk towards her and as he reached her, he heard the small whimpers and cries she was making. _

_"Please- please don't." She said her arm going up to protect her body but he swung the bat, spikes sinking into her skin and could feel it through the bat. How the spikes entered her skin like a spoon into ice cream and she screamed her eyes opening wide and he could see every part of her mouth. He pulled the bat back, pressing his foot against her arm when it stuck. He was grinning the entire time occasionally letting a chuckle out._

_The next time he hit her in the face watching as a spike entered her eye socket and he roared in laughter._

_Ron jerked up into a sitting position his mouth opened as he screamed, his voice endless no beginning and no end. Someone should be coming he though looking around but the darkness was still there. He felt something pulling at his arm and he lashed out. _

_"Ron! Ron wake up it's just a dream! Oh god!" A girl was screaming and he began to cry remembering how he had laughed as he hit the woman. "Wake Madame Pomfrey! Ron it's me! It's Hermione." He pushed away moving to tuck his head between his knees._

There was light peeking through the cracks between his eyelids and cheeks.

"I don't suppose you have an answer to what happened?" That was Hermione but her voice was full of anger and he was about to reply when someone else did.

"I can only guess Miss. Granger." That was Dumbledore his voice laced with regret.

"Well what is your guess?" She asked her voice still incredibly angry.

"I understand that you are upset-"

"Upset! UPSET!" She was screaming now and he could hear her tears. "I'm not upset I'm terrified that my best friend starts screaming in the middle of the night and tearing off his skin and can't be woken! I want some bloody answers!" Her voice dwindled at the end and he could feel the vibrations of her sobs where she was touching his bed.

"Shhh Hermione calm down, we'll fig-" Harry choked a little on his own tears before continuing, "We'll figure this out, okay." There was silence except for Hermione's sobs.

"I'm sorry Professor." She murmured softly.

"No apologies needed Miss. Granger." His voice was gentle and soothing, it seemed to calm everyone. "As I was saying I can only guess what has affected Mr. Weasley. But, I have looked into his injury and I believe that the brains when they attacked him transferred memories their memories into his mind."

"So you mean he's got someone else's memories?" Harry asked his voice dull.

"Not in the respect that you suggest Harry. I only mean that he now has some memories from the brains, he should have still retained his own." That 'should' hung in the air like a hundred pound weight. Ron quickly began trying to remember something, anything!

_First year mum showed Harry how to get through….._

He couldn't remember the last part! He opened his eyes then and he heard Hermione gasp but he was trying to remember.

_Fred and George had left the school this year because they were…..expelled? _

He began panting for air his hands going to his head trying to squeeze the memories.

"I can't remember. Where are George and Fred?" He asked looking at Harry, whose mouth was opened in surprise.

"They left remember after Umbridge replaced Dumbledore as Headmaster, they used all their prank stuff, like the fireworks." Hermione said pulling the facts to give them to him. Slowly he relaxed.

"The ones that wrote swear words?" He asked and she nodded her hand going out to grasp his.

"Remember something else." Harry said scooting forward in his seat.

"Um….that girl kissed you under the mistletoe in the Room of Requirements." He said and Harry blushed.

"What did she look like?" Hermione asked urgently.

"You know." Ron said.

"Yes but do you?" She asked and Ron closed his eyes leaving just a crack for light to enter.

"Err…black hair….." He paused for a moment, "Asian. Harry fancied her forever-"

"Thanks for letting that one out mate." Harry muttered.

"Oh hush up." Hermione said her eyes still glued to Ron's face. "Can you remember her name Ron?"

"Give him a moment Miss. Granger, he just had a strenuous ordeal his mind is tired." Ron glanced over at Dumbledore and felt muscles he didn't know he was flexing relax. "Take your time Mr. Weasley." Ron nodded closing his eyes still leaving a crack.

"I can almost see it you know? Like its right there in front of me." He muttered in frustration. He took a deep breath closing his eyes completely trying not to panic and it was there written across the insides of his eyelids. "Cho Chang!" He shouted jubilantly and Hermione threw her arms around his neck.

"I don't believe that you have lost any of your memory." Dumbledore said smiling his eyes twinkling at Hermione's reaction. "Also these lapses should stop as you recover, which should only take a few days."

"Thank you Professor." Ron said and Dumbledore winked at him before rising and leaving.

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His memories returned yes but the others did not fade. He would lie awake too afraid to sleep because it wasn't like a nightmare. It was so much worse. It was these terrible things that had actually happened and they were replayed like he was committing them. He felt what they felt, thought what they thought. He had their desire to kill and torture. It was more terrible than anything he could ever have imagined.

There were times when he could barely sleep and that was when Hermione would sit with him.

Harry must have talked to her or maybe she just knew because as he was lying awake one night he heard the door creak and he sat up to see Hermione creeping towards him.

"Hey." She whispered as she slid onto his bed.

"Hey what are you doing here?" He asked looking around to make sure everyone was asleep.

"Oh I couldn't sleep." They both knew she was lying and he smiled slightly. They sat in silence Hermione with her knees pressed to her chest trying to watch him subtly. After a while she moved her hand over to his arm and pulled it across her lap lightly. She glanced up at him before rolling his sleeve up to his elbow. He watched her bite her lip and begin to cry softly letting the tears drop onto his scarred skin. She didn't say a word as she traced the lines with shaking fingers. Hermione slowly leaned down and began to kiss each mark and he tried to keep from shuddering as her warm lips caressed his cool skin.

She looked up at him before moving to unbutton his shirt pushing it off his shoulders and her lip began to bleed as she tried to keep her sobs silent but her body shook with the effort. Again she traced the lines as they curved around his biceps and around his abdomen. She stilled for a moment before pressing her lips to the base of his neck where a small lump had formed from two intersecting scars.

"I'm so glad you're okay." She murmured before pressing her face into the hollow at the base of his neck and he felt her tears sliding down his chest pooling in the lines of his stomach and he thought that things might just be alright.

A/N: Again the bold at the beginning is from the Harry Potter books copyright of J.K. Rowling. Hope you like this chapter it kinda ran away from me, I had it going to left and it went to the right that sort of thing. Anyways I enjoyed writing, so tell me what you think.

-Wonderwall


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